Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(14)

“Are you dressed?”

“Do you truly believe I’d risk getting naked anywhere near you?”

A pause. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

The door swung wide and Rivelin stepped into the bedroom. I was immediately struck by how different he looked in the light, how inexplicably…better. His silver hair seemed to glisten, the damp strands curly around his sharply pointed ears. And his eyes, they seemed to glow as bright as the sun itself. Even his tanned skin evoked the hazy feel of summer.

I glanced away before my eyes wandered further south to his broad chest. His light brown tunic was tight enough to highlight his biceps, which were…not small.

“Oh. You’re still in bed,” he said, his voice a bit rough. He was clearly caught off guard, even though he’d been the one to storm in on me.

And I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw now when he looked at me? Did I look better in the light, like him? Or worse? My hair was a wreck from the storm.

Not that it mattered.

“Is there something you want?” I asked.

He held up a bundle of linens. “I brought you a towel and some fresh clothes. There’s a bath through the door across the hallway.”

“Oh.” I sighed. “I can’t take a—”

“I’ve put a bag of salt in the bathing chambers. I think it should be enough,” he said gruffly.

I lifted a brow, wondering if I was still asleep and dreaming. “You got me some salt?”

“Don’t get excited. I already had some stocked in my cupboards.” He held up the towel and the clothes. “Now do you want to stop babbling and get clean, or what?”

I gave him my trademark smile. “You, Rivelin the Blacksmith, are a lot softer than you want everyone to believe.”

“If you start thinking that, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” He strode across the room, dumped the clothes on the bed, and walked straight out the door without another word.



T he bathing chambers were far more luxurious than I’d expected. In fact, I’d assumed I’d find nothing but an old, beat-up tin tub full of cold water. Rivelin might have scrounged up some salt for me, but it was unlikely he’d have taken the time to light a fire, heat up the water, and lug it all the way in here. It would take several trips, at least.

And I was right. He hadn’t done any of that. Because he hadn’t needed to.

Holding the towel around my chest, I twisted a metal valve and marvelled at the deluge of warm water that spilled through a spout, filling the stone tub in only moments. I’d never seen anything quite like it before. How could a tiny island village have something like this when Fafnir didn’t?

It boggled the mind.

After pouring some of the salt into the water, I settled into the soothing heat and sighed.

I might have fallen back asleep like that, for a time. One blink later, the steam from the blazing bath had vanished, and the water had cooled. My body ached from my fight against the sea, the pain settling into my muscles now that I’d had a bit of rest. I could have happily spent the next day and night sleeping, but I had things to do and elves to spy on—and help win some challenges. I probably needed to do both to ensure I got my shot at freedom.

After rinsing off the soap and the flecks of sand still stuck to my skin, I toweled off and changed into the clothes Rivelin had given me. Shockingly, the deep brown trousers fit me like a second skin, and the leather belt was a perfect fit. I pulled a dark green tunic over my head but frowned at how it clung to my stomach and arms. The humid air of the island would soon make this shirt more than a little uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, it was all I had, and beggars can’t be choosers.

Back in the bedroom, I combed through my hair with my fingers and pulled the wet strands up into a high ponytail, wishing I had a mirror. I needed Rivelin to see me as pleasantly unthreatening so I could convince him to share his deepest, darkest secrets with me—and the prize from the Games, if we managed to secure the win. If I looked a mess, it’d take a lot longer to get on his good side.

I smoothed down the top of my hair and sighed. This was the best I could manage with what little I had to work with. Time to put on my best smile and do what I came here to do.





8

RIVELIN





“H ere, boy.” I plucked a slice of bacon from where I’d been cooling it beside the fire, and I tossed it toward Skoll. He caught it midair, his teeth crunching into the crispy meat. He wagged his tail and looked at me expectantly. With a chuckle, I ruffled his fur and turned back to the fire.

The hallway floorboards creaked, and I stiffened. Daella had taken a long damn time in the bath, but now she was coming. Skoll let out a low growl as he sniffed the air. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a visitor who wasn’t my sister.

Daella walked into the room with a brilliant, though obviously fake, smile on her face but froze when she caught sight of Skoll. His lips curled back to reveal his sharp canines. I expected to see a hint of fear, even if she tried to hide it. Her throat would bob as she swallowed or her hand would shake. Much to my surprise, her eyes brightened. This time, it seemed real.

She knelt and held out a hand toward Skoll. “You have a wolf?”

“A fenrir. His name is Skoll.” I kept a close eye on his fangs as he took a sniff of her hand. And then he wagged his tail and licked her fingers. “Huh. He likes you. I’d take that as a compliment. He can be pretty grumpy with strangers.”